


Cherchez la Femme

by JamesPeppersalt, One-Shot Sheriff (JamesPeppersalt)



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blessings, Curses, F/F, Fluff, Jealousy, Just Gals Being Chicks, Married Couple, Rest, SO MUCH FLUFF, ferarepair-week2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10094837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesPeppersalt/pseuds/JamesPeppersalt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesPeppersalt/pseuds/One-Shot%20Sheriff
Summary: Tharja is tired of constantly having to look for Cherche only to find her with Minerva. Thus, she curses her lover in order to have her full attention.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ferarepair-week2k17 on Tumblr! Just gals being chicks.

Tharja had a lot of problems before she met Cherche, but the woman just seemed to keep adding more.

Not that she minded. She did like the trouble.

But on occasion it got tiring.

Like when she was jilted for a wyvern, of all things.

On this particular day, Tharja was craving her lover’s company after a long battle. Cherche had been left behind when the Shepherds that Robin and Chrom had chosen marched off to battle. Now, the prince and his trusted tactician were getting comfy and settled for the night. But where was Tharja’s Valmese beauty?

Her children, Gerome and Noire, knew full well to steer clear of her when she came marching home. She didn’t like being overly threatening around them, especially after she’d discovered what her future self had done to Noire, but now, she was _angry._

“What’s wrong, Tharja?” Gerome asked when she stormed into their home, grunting the question whilst feigning disinterest. His sister clung to his side timidly.

“Your _mother_ is what,” Tharja scoffed, slamming her hands on her desk, which was strewn with instruments used in curses. “How am I going to find her…”

“U-um, well, w-we don’t know where she went,” Noire offered from behind her brother. “B-but she did mention something about… Minerva…”

Tharja narrowed her eyes. “ _Minerva_ ,” she breathed angrily. She cackled without humor. “Of course she’s with Minerva…”

“Wait a moment,” Gerome interjected once he noticed how Tharja eyed her tools. “You’re not going to-”

“Oh, please,” his mother huffed. “I’m not going to hurt your precious Minervy-kins.”

Gerome blushed and glanced away. “...I thought we agreed that I _never_ said that.”

“Hmph.” Leaning over, Tharja picked up a book of hexes. “No… on the contrary. I’m going to curse your mummy dearest.”

“B-but Mother!” Noire cut in, voice shaking. “You can’t possibly-”

“I won’t hurt her,” Tharja snapped. “Come now, Noire, you act as though I’m a monster.”

Noire chewed her lip and said nothing.

“Hm…” Tharja flipped the pages. “Yes… this shall do…” she smiled wickedly. “Let’s see who she thinks of most, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cherche had just finished washing Minerva when she was suddenly overcome with the strange urge to sneeze.

She didn’t think much of it at first.

That is, until every other minute, she was sneezing.

Minerva didn’t seem to like the company of her sneezy rider after the humor wore off, and quickly, Cherche was ushered out of the wyvern stables by the swipe of a large tail.

“Miner- _achoo_!” Cherche sniffed, wiping her nose. “W-why…”

“A- _ha_.”

Cherche turned around to see her wife, Tharja, standing before her. Radiant as always, the Plegian mage had her arms crossed, a miffed stance taken as she stood outside.

“Oh, Tharja!” Cherche beemed. “I’m sorry! I was just washing- _achoo_!”

“Mm-hm.” Tharja rolled her eyes. “Spare me the fool excuses. You’re coming with _me_.”

“I’m… what?” Cherche blinked. “B-but I have to- _achoo_! I’ve got- _achoo_! Min- _achoo_! Ugh, why do I keep-”

Tharja reached out and squeezed Cherche’s nostrils to silence the impending sternutation. “I’ve cursed you,” she explained.

“Wh-what?” Cherche blinked. “But… whyever would…”

“ _You_ are coming with _me_ ,” Tharja interrupted, grabbing Cherche by the arms and pulling her along.

“B-but _why_?” Cherche inquired loudly. “And _why_ did you curse me?!”

“Hmph,” Tharja grunted. “Because you spend more time with that wyvern than you do your wife.”

“But she- _achoo_ \- is part of- _achoo_ \- the family!” Cherche let out one more powerful sneeze, moaning.

Tharja chuckled ominously. “Let’s see who you think of more, then- the wyvern, or your wife.” She turned and help up a finger. “Every time you think of Minerva, you will sneeze. And by the end of the night, I will _know_ who you love more.”

“I don’t…” Cherche frowned. “Tharja…”

“Don’t ‘Tharja’ me,” her wife snapped. “Now, come. Gerome and Noire have prepared us a nice dinner.”

 

* * *

 

 

As far as failures went, this would definitely account as to being one.

The entire night, Cherche had sneezed endlessly. Over dinner, she’d been talking about Valmese delicacies when suddenly, she’d blast out her nose. Tharja would be speaking, and it would happen again. About every five minutes, in fact, Cherche sneezed.

They’d finally decided to go to bed.

Or, rather, _Tharja_ had gone to bed, condemning Cherche to a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor.

“Darling, I know you’re upset, but please don’t be.”

“Hmph.” Tharja rolled over and closed her eyes. “Leave me be, woman.”

“Thar- _ja_ ,” Cherche groaned. Tharja felt pale, slender arms curl around her, soft lips press against her temple. She smiled, almost deciding to give in…

Until Cherche sneezed directly into her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_!” Cherche shrieked with laughter when Tharja hit her with a pillow. “It’s just- I mean, this is so silly!”

“I don’t see how it’s silly that my wife loves her mount more than she does me,” Tharja snapped.

“Oh, Tharja… you’re so possessive sometimes.” Cherche smiled. “But, you know… you never cursed me so that you’d know when I was thinking about you.”

Tharja frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Certainly, I think of-” she held back a sneeze- “Minerva a lot, but I also think of you. And Gerome. And Noire. And how Min- _achoo_!-nerva and I go out into battle every day, just to protect the future we have with our family.”

Tharja pondered this. In a way, Cherche was right. She was being childish and vain.

She turned her head away, refusing to look at her beautiful, pink-haired lover. “I hate you,” she mumbled.

“Heehee.” Cherche leaned over and kissed Tharja on the lips. “I love you, too.”

“All I wanted was a day of rest and relaxation with you,” Tharja admitted.

“And you can have it! We can call in the children and-”

“No…” Tharja laced her hands into the fabric of Cherche’s tunic. “ _Just_ you.”

Cherche was silenced.

“This was is so bloody and miserable,” Tharja spat. “I just want a day of peace with you. Just… nothing too intimate, maybe we could relax at home, or…”

Cherche placed a finger upon Tharja’s lips. “Sh… I understand.”

With her leg, Cherche forced Tharja to move over as she slid under the covers and placed her head on Tharja’s shoulder, lying down. Tharja’s face reddened, but she allowed Cherche to embrace her.

The laid down, not saying anything or doing anything, just… relaxing.

And Tharja loved every moment of it.

Not once did Cherche sneeze. Not once did either of the say anything.

Not until they were both close to being overtaken by sleep, when Cherche leaned over and whispered,

“You know… you may curse me on occasion, but you and our children are the biggest blessing in my life.”

Tharja closed her eyes, taking in the tranquility of the moment.

She didn’t even mind when a few minutes later, Cherche sneezed.


End file.
